


Peace For The Scorned

by Sweet_Satura



Category: Naruto
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Clan alliance, Dealing With Loss, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Dynamics, Family Loss, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Madara never left Konoha, Political Alliances, Political tension, Warring States Period (Naruto), Worldbuilding, violence on later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweet_Satura/pseuds/Sweet_Satura
Summary: The founding of Konoha meant a new beginning, a new path towards a brighter and safer future. A path that the Senju and the Uchiha decided to walk on hand in hand with the Uzumaki. With their alliance, the three clans swore to end warfare and bring an age of prosperity. What it all brought instead would make Hashirama and Madara realize that the peace they were building together with their wives was nothing more than a sweet illusion.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Uchiha Madara/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. In Times Like These

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with more Naruto! This time I'm trying to write a longer story with a more intricate plot. Also, I took some liberties in terms of traditional/historical elements as well as with the canon itself. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [Updates won't be quick or regular - I write when I can :D]

The Uchiha Elder was at his wit’s end. No matter how they hurried, the pouring November rain soaked through every layer of clothing, and the umbrella this little servant kept agitating over his head did nothing to help. The one leading them proved just as useless, not only by using a candlelit lamp in such weather, but also by tripping over her skirts multiple times. 

Already on his first visit to Uzushio did he notice that the standards of the Uzumaki residence were not the same as the Uchiha’s. For a clan reputed to be prestigious, everything seemed… less. The outer walls were bare, just painted in this eye sore of a brick red, with garish yellow tiles sitting atop. Paths, alleyways as well as the central road were paved with cobblestone; a crude choice compared to the more refined slate tiles used back in their Konoha compound. The houses themselves did not save the picture. Devoid of any intricacy or features befitting the noble status of the clan, they looked no different than those they had passed by earlier in the village. As for the crest, the very vessel of a clan’s pride, it was nowhere to be seen. Not even in their houses! At least they had the decency of wearing it on their backs.

If things had been solely up to him, he would have given up on the Uzumaki entirely as soon as he heard about the tragic news. After all, they no longer had something to offer to the Uchiha, nothing as unique and priceless to seal a true alliance. Yet somehow, the rest of the Elders still dimmed it necessary to have him travel on a ship, cross the sea and its infernal waters to renegotiate with the Land of Whirlpools. Now only meters away from his final destination, he prayed to the heavens above for this whole trip to not end up being a total waste of time.

The servant promptly opened the gate to the main residence and rushed the entire group into the inner court, where two shinobis stood on guarding duty. Her high-pitched yelling rung painfully in the Elder’s ears, but at least it got that lazy pair to snap into action and open the door for them. Without warning, he shoved the girl aside and invited himself in. 

Once the renowned guests relieved of their cloaks and back into their eminent shape, the two girls kneeled at each side of the paper doors and slid them open in perfect synchronicity. They remained on the ground as the shinobi guards escorted the Uchiha men inside, where the Uzumaki patriarch was waiting for them, a large pot of tea simmering on a stove beside the desk. “Guards, go back to the gate. No one is allowed in from now on.” At the wave of his hand the men rushed outside, the paper doors closing on them.

Upon this second meeting, the Elder was reminded of how much time hadn’t been kind to Ashina Uzumaki. Behind his finely combed silver hair and neatly tied hakama hid a body damaged a thousand fold by warfare, riddled with scars and mended bones and invisible pain. “Thank you for having us today.” The younger Uchiha spoke, his back bending into an elegant bow.

Ashina nodded politely in their direction and got to serving the tea. His hand trembled as he plunged the wooden ladle into the pot to retrieve the perfect amount of liquid, then served it into cups which he quickly handed to his guests. Both Uchihas couldn’t resist an early sip of the piping hot Sencha. Ashina contented himself with holding the cup, allowing its warmth to travel his aching fingers.

“Lord Uzumaki, allow us to express our most sincere condolences regarding the passing of your granddaughter.” 

“Thank you.” Ashina replied, his tired eyes staring at his drink.

The first Elder cleared his throat. “It is very honorable of you to still be willing to secure an alliance with us despite being in mourning.” He took another sip of tea, eyeing the Uzumaki’s lack of reaction. “Now, have you thought about an ideal replacement?”

Such demeanor earned a deep sigh from Ashina. “I did.” He replied before bringing to the desk a large scroll from a nearby shelf. The ribbon holding it closed came undone with one single pull, allowing the scroll to spill open for the guests to see.

Inked finely on the thick paper, the names of all the Uzumaki appeared one by one, linked to one another by black lines and adorned with their own unique seal. Highlighted with gold embellishment and delicate hand-painted decorations, the main branch of the clan stood out, and to the delight of the older Uchiha brother looked to be plentiful. He leaned in and took a closer look. “What a fantastic family tree you have, Lord Uzumaki. It seems we have many options to choose from.”

“Not so fast, Lord Uchiha.” The Uzumaki said as he brought the tea cup to his lips. “How can you read a name and immediately assume this person is up for the taking?”

His guest stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Only those with Uzumaki blood are presented in this tree.” He let the sip of warm tea linger on his palate. “The spouses of foreign origin are not mentioned here.”

The Elder gritted his teeth as he was offered a second drink. As if his time hadn’t been wasted enough already. “Well then, could you tell us who among your descendants could be a fine match?” He asked, forcing his face to bear the semblance of a smile.

“Let’s see… My second granddaughter is married to a gentleman from the Iron country, then there’s Mito, who’s betrothed to Hashirama Senju…” The Uchiha rolled his eyes at this mention. “As for my fifth granddaughter, she is married to the youngest son of the Land of Hot Water’s daimyo.”

A smile grazed the first Uchiha’s face. To have allies such as the lands of Iron and Hot Water meant keeping the land of Lightning at bay. Maybe this trade with the Uzumaki could prove fruitful after all. “What about your sixth granddaughter?” He asked, pointing at her name. “Heini. Quite an unusual name.”

“Lord Uchiha, Heini is only eleven years old.”

The Elder slowly withdrew his hand from the paper. “Older brother, her birth date is right there. Look! She was born in the year of the Snake.” The second Uchiha declared. “Lord Uzumaki, pay no mind to this careless mistake.”

Ashina reciprocated a courteous smile to the youngest Uchiha’s annoyed one before refilling all cups with more piping hot tea. “It’s alright. After such a long trip it’s perfectly normal to be exhausted…” 

“Lord Uzumaki.” The older Elder interrupted. “I’m afraid you haven’t answered my initial question.” 

The old man stared at his guest, straightened up on his cushion with all ten fingers fidgeting on his knees. Even the air surrounding them had somehow turned as brittle as the Uchiha’s patience. “Lord Uchiha…” Ashina’s finger traced along the golden line, descending from ancestor to ancestor, before it forked on one black line and finally reach its destination. “The next lady in line for our alliance is Kuwa, my late niece’s daughter.”

The first Elder could not believe his ears. Had the world turned upside down for this old geezer to offer a woman from a lesser branch? If these ladies were blessed with good looks one could marry them off to a general or politician, or send them to the monastery as a last resort, but offer them to a clan leader? Surely he was joking.

“She was born on the year of the Dragon.” The second Elder noticed. “This is very auspicious. A dragon will definitely strengthen the fire of our clan.”

“Twenty-three. Isn’t she a bit old?” His older brother noted nonchalantly.

Ashina let out a small laugh. “She’s still younger than Madara.” He swirled the content of his cup to bring up its fragrance. “Besides… She may not be as young as your typical Uchiha bride, but she has wisdom and reason for herself, qualities that the wife of a future leader should certainly possess to support her husband.”

Fingers clenched on the fabric of his clothing, the Uchiha fought to keep control of his cool. These Uzumaki had way too much nerve. “And how does she look like?”

His host brought two fingers over the seal painted on top of Kuwa’s name and with his other hand cast the release jutsu. Another smaller scroll appeared, one that both guests snatched and rolled open to reveal the portrait of a stunning young lady: She wore her Uzumaki red hair in a bun with a few locks free to frame the oval of her face. Her dark eyes gazed fierce and bright, shaped like almonds and crowned with defined eyebrows. Her smile on the other hand was gentle and delicate, lifting soft cheeks that called for a tender touch. There was grace in the way she held herself, and a sense of nobility accentuated by the golden jewelry ornamenting her forehead and ears.

The second Elder laid the portrait down. “She is a beauty, there’s no doubt about that.”

“She can’t compare with Lady Inari on that matter.” The other commented, a sip of sarcasm slithering on his tongue. “Is she able to _at least_ produce offspring?”

The question took Ashina by surprise. Of course, to bear children would be an essential part in this alliance, as there’d be no better mean to strengthen the ties between the clans, but that was only a part of it all. What awaited Kuwa in this role was far more intricate than just birthing heirs. Besides, she may not be from the main branch of his clan, she was still a blood-born Uzumaki!

As much as it hurt to do so, Ashina swallowed his pride. An unprecedented alliance was at stake here and as a leader, it was up to him not to mess up the opportunity. “She is in perfect health, if that’s what you’re asking.” He replied flatly. “Like my own grandchildren, Kuwa has been taught by the best professors in Uzushio. She has studied history, literature and traditional feminine crafts in addition to the proper etiquette, and has a natural talent for painting and calligraphy. This family tree is an example of her work.” 

The second Elder couldn’t help but smirk. Ashina had thought his move thoroughly. “A fine example of filial piety and dedication to the clan. Inspiring, isn’t it brother?”

“It’s just ink on paper.” He huffed. “What else can she bring to our clan, besides poems and embroideries?”

The Uzumaki leaned in, his gaze locking with his guest’s. “Ink and embroideries might seem useless to you, but the hand behind those is of a woman gifted with patience and attention, who has cultivated her unique qualities throughout the years and hardships.”Another round of tea was served under perplexed eyes. “Think about Madara. Loyal and brave, yet so stubborn and reckless. ” He turned to the younger Uchiha. “Wouldn’t you like him to have a caring, diligent wife by his side? Someone gentle to appease his unpredictable temper, who could keep him grounded and focused?”

The pair looked at each other. Ashina had a point and they both knew it. How many times in the past did Madara lash out at them for minor things, or refuse to follow their advice? The argument slowly sank in. That Kuwa could indeed be used to soften up the edges and, hopefully, remind their leader of his responsibilities towards the clan. “Is she obedient?” The older Uchiha asked.

“She is.”

The second Elder chimed in. “Is she ready to submit to our rules and traditions?”

“She is fully aware of what this marriage entails.”

“Are you sure she is our only option?”

A hint of exasperation tainted Ashina’s features. “If I didn’t trust Kuwa, I wouldn’t have chosen her to fulfill an alliance where so much is at stake for both our clans and countries.” He sighed. “Lord Uchiha, I have answered all your questions and this is my offer. What is your answer?”

The Lord toyed with his cup as his thoughts raged. This trade wasn’t equal. Definitely not as precious and valuable as the renowned Inari Uzumaki. But the Senju were soon to unite with the Uzumaki as well, and come to think of it, the Uchiha couldn’t possibly not have what the Senju possess. The pros and cons waged a headache-inducing war in his head, until the faint whisper of his brother reached his ear.

Word after word, the smile of the Elder grew wider and eventually let out a hearty laugh. His burden of a brother actually proved useful. Very useful.

“Someone bring paper, ink and a pen! There’s a marriage contract to be written!”

* * *

A battle between respectful composure and emotional distress raged deep within her. Every breath hurt and rattled in her chest, choking her with the strength of a man every time she had to say her name. Mito held on tighter to the incense sticks, inhaling their soothing sent. She couldn’t let her inner turmoil disturb the silence surrounding her. Only the whispered words of her prayer should reach the heavens, where Inari now resided.

The ceremonial candles had been burning for four days already in the Uzumaki mausoleum. Four days since the clan’s sacred grounds had welcomed her and the grief of the entire clan. The masterly crafted coffin stood in the heart of the building on its pedestal, white silken drapes framing it on each side. Etched in the wood for eternity to remember, the name of the regretted princess read a reality hearts could not bear.

In front of her younger sister, Mito was a mere shadow of herself. Gone were the fine silk kimonos and golden hair pins, the rouge and the ribbons, the smiles and the sparkle in her eyes. Here she stood in a simple, white linen robe with her long crimson hair loose on her back, her knees resting on a cushion while her naked feet had to endure the cold and rough surface of the stone. Deep dark circles had formed under her eyes after nights of reciting sutras, growing darker with her ever paling skin. It didn’t matter at all. She had to keep going. She had to keep praying so that Inari’s soul would find peace in the afterlife.

As the days following Inari’s departure went by Mito had taken upon herself to fulfill the funeral rites to the point of chasing away anyone who dared to come too close. From the flowers to the ornaments and crest banners, from the incense to every single bite of food on the altar, she had arranged everything herself, much to the dismay of Ashina and the religious authorities. Of course she could come to recite sutras and lit the incense but a lady of her rank, and especially a future bride, should never deal with these ominous things. Still in the end, nobody voiced their discontentment. Her devotion and love touched too many to be worth a blame.

The heavy doors of the mausoleum cracked open just enough for the servant to walk in. She removed her shoes and drenched cloak before walking discreetly to meet her mistress, a meal basket in hand. The servant settled behind her and leaned in closer. “My lady, you haven’t eaten at all today. Please, at least have some of this chicken soup.” She spoke quietly.

Never interrupting her prayer, Mito eyed her personal maid and just like the previous attempt, she waved her off. The woman begged her, but quickly admitted defeat soon after. Following a respectful bow to both mistresses, she went on her way, sighing deeply as she closed the door.

Satsu would take no for an answer in front of her, but Mito was certain the maid would be back in an hour with another of her favorite dishes. After years of knowing each other, Satsu knew how to bypass her mistress’ commands if it meant protecting her, this in such soft and subtle ways that Mito could never get angry at her. As much as the attention warmed her heart, the cold weight of unbridled guilt crushed the feeling as soon as it bloomed.

She was returning from the aviary when she heard it. The low and dreadful tolling resounded as she jumped the last steps of the stairs in girlish glee after sending a secret, non protocol-abiding note to her beloved Hashirama. That heart fluttering with love ceased to beat the moment the guards fell to their knees and bowed to the ground. Voices rose all around her, reverberating within the walls of the compound. Lady Inari had passed away. 

Mito’s voice cracked with ever rising sorrow, the stain of her own selfishness eating at her every holy word. She should have been there for her, beside her for her final moments.

A loud bang on the door caused her to jump. She glanced over her shoulder to see the door of the mausoleum fling open to the sound of Satsu’s tearful pleas. Ashina forced his way in, throwing his coat at the servant’s face. As if her chest wasn’t feeling tight already, the intrusion of her grandparent brought in a wave of panic. Through the thuds of her beating heart she breathed in for another salve of prayers, one that still failed to cover the sound of closing in footsteps. “Mito…” The presence behind her called softly. “I’ve spoken with the Uchiha and they approved of Kuwa. She’ll be accompanying you.”

The shadow of a smile grazed her face when she bent forward to offer the incense on the altar. Of course she was happy for Kuwa. She now had a chance to elevate herself, a chance for a better status than in her own birth clan, and she would be cherished by her husband. _So cherished._

Ashina placed caring hands on both her shoulders. “My child, you can’t keep yourself locked away. I’m touched by what you do for Inari, we all are, but this has gone for too long.” He insisted on those last words as he shook her slowly. “You can’t hide from your responsibilities forever.”

She shook away from his hold, brutally enough to almost lose her balance. Ashina himself backed up. It was the first time she disrespected him so blatantly, even more so in front of servants. Still dumbfounded, he watched her settle back onto her knees and straighten up for what he assumed was the beginning of another round of mumbling. That silly girl. A few more days like this one and she’d befriend the stones and the stars instead of her fiancé.

“Would you rather marry Hashirama Senju or starve yourself with prayers and smoke?” The Elder’s question stung deep enough to stop Mito dead in her tracks. All poise suddenly forsaken she turned to face him, her eyes already glistening. “Don’t you bring Hashirama into this.” She spoke through clenched teeth. 

Soon after, the mask of her graceful features began to crack under the growing pressure of anger and pain, and now that her beloved Hashirama had been thrown into the mix her heart was tearing in two. Even though this marriage started as purely arranged, she had grown deeply fond of this extravagant, joyful man and at this stage her feelings for the Senju were a secret to no one. The gods had to be on her side since she would marry for love. Inari was promised to the same happiness, yet the same gods had called her back to them, never to return. Without her sister with her to share this blessed moment, how could it be happy any longer? Unable to continue praying in auspicious conditions, Mito got up and went to replenish the altar with offerings she had brought earlier.

Ashina’s patience ran dry. He walked to her, grabbed her by the arm and forced her to face the coffin, even going as far as to point a finger at it. “Do you think this is what Inari would want for you? To spend all day on your knees, chilling to the bone while lamenting on her fate? Do you, child?” 

Mito immediately pushed his arm away, removing herself from his side in the process. The wisest and kindest soul of this clan had just tarnished the memory of her sister. As she held his gaze her whole body shook. “If not me, then who will? Who in this clan cares if she has found peace?” Her hand went to her heaving chest, pointing at herself repeatedly. “Tell me, grandfather, who truly cares but me?!” She shouted through the tears.

“Uzumaki Mito!” His voice thundered. “That is enough! Satsu! And you there, take her to her room!”

“No! NO! INARI!” Mito cried out in vain as two sets of arms dragged her away. She called for her sister, begged her until she could no longer speak. Under Ashina’s severe yet pained stare, the Uzumaki princess disappeared behind the mausoleum’s doors in a chant of sobs and gasping wails. Turning to face the coffin, lips sealed in the hope of silencing his own sadness, Ashina prayed the ancestors to keep a watchful eye on the two sisters.

* * *

The moment he set foot in the entry hall of his manor, Madara let out a content sigh. There was no denying: being back to the comfort and quiet was bliss. It may have taken a day or two more than what was originally planned, but in the end it was all worth it. The safety of the village had been restored, and he fully intended on relishing these peaceful times while they lasted.

Quenching a rebellion was no new business for the Lord of the Uchiha. Whether they broke out in the northern plains of the Land of Fire, or in the hideouts at the border or even within Konoha itself, they’d be a task for him and his clan. A mere glance of the Sharingan was enough for most to get back in line. As for those barking the loudest, they were bound to kneel in surrender. All in all an effective solution, which carried minimal damage. This way of solving problems never particularly bothered him, yet for a reason that completely flew past him, Hashirama still oozed guilt every time he’d sent him out to bring order back. He knew his best friend was the diplomatic, word savvy one, but this was all about Konoha. To have the village thrive in peace couldn’t rest only on speeches and reprimands. Sometimes, more concrete persuasion was the key. 

Ah well. There would always be something for Hashirama to feel blue about.

As Madara got rid of his muddy shoes, the armorer and his young apprentice appeared by his side. One grabbed the Gunbai out of his hand while the other started undoing the heavy pieces of armor, not without a bit of difficulty. They slowly came off one by one, relieving his exhausted body from this now hardly bearable weight. A weight that the poor little apprentice now had to carry with one hand. The armorer finished his task by removing the torso piece, truly setting the Uchiha Lord free. After a nice set of stretching his sore muscles, he turned to the both of them. “Get to work immediately. I don’t want blood corroding it.”

“Of course, my Lord.” The man nodded before the duo pressed their way out.

His first steps into the living room, though much lighter still proved slow and difficult. As he could see for himself, the servants had followed his instructions up to the very detail and made sure his home was in pristine condition to welcome his guests. He would have to reward accordingly, that was a given. And… also pray that his silly little brother would stick to his own bedroom to work on his sealing techniques.

“My Lord.” He turned around and was met with his personal servant. “Welcome home. Lord Hokage has arrived to the main gate and would like a word with you.”

Madara’s face lit up. “I’ll meet him in my study. Bring along some snacks and tea.” The servant acquiesced and took his leave. The Uchiha lost no time and headed for the study, running his hands through his matted hair and dusting his sleeves to at least look presentable. As much as he appreciated impeccable timing, an occasion to take a warm bath would’ve been just as welcomed.

Minutes later, the servant returned with Hashirama in tow, who had traded his Hokage robes for the traditional Senju pleated hakama. “Ah, Hashirama, glad to see you came to personally welcome me back.” Madara laughed, putting aside the notes of his past assignment. “Leave us, Genjiro.” 

His servant bowed and exited the room while Madara took it upon himself to pour the tea and serve two small plates of sweet bean paste biscuits. “You’ll be happy to hear the situation in the north is back to normal. We should see a decrease of floods in the following days.” He declared through a mouthful of food before bringing a warm cup to his friend. His gesture was met with a refusing hand and an unusual lack of chatter. 

Madara sipped on the beverage, letting its sweet flavors brew in his mouth as he put the cup down. Still no sound from Hashirama. Just that blank stare aiming at the ground. “Don’t give me that dejected look. Soon you’ll marry the woman you love! Isn’t that something to be delighted about?” His arm wrapped around Hashirama’s shoulders and held him with all the strength of good old camaraderie, a strength in feeling that his friend simply failed to return. Much to Madara’s confusion, Hashirama broke free of the embrace and went to the desk, then withdrew a piece of paper from his side pocket before laying it down on the wooden surface. The glance he returned at that moment erased all traces of joy from the Lord’s face.

Putting his drink aside Madara joined his friend. “Hash… Is everything alright?” He asked as he gave him a few pats on the back. Hashirama just nodded in the direction of the folded letter. “It arrived in my office a few days ago, while you were away.” The dark, broken tone of his voice rung with every syllable. “Just… read it.” He mouthed as he turned away, audibly repressing a sob. The Uchiha took a few seconds to study his friend. He had seen this reaction before, decades ago when they were still children playing at the river. Whatever this thing was, it was nothing good.

Madara took place in his chair. As far as he knew, that brat Tobirama was still very much alive and well when he returned to the village earlier today. Furthermore, the Senju compound bore no signs of mourning, neither did any particular place in the village. Everything just looked as it usually did, except for his brother in arms. Another depressive state taken too far, he thought to himself. Until he saw who the true recipient of this letter was.

His name stood bold against the white of the paper, handwritten with such delicate arabesques that only a feminine hand could master. A hand he recognized immediately as the one of Mito Uzumaki. As quickly as the heartbeat in his chest, Madara unfolded the letter and began reading. At first the words flowed neatly one after the other, the result of a fluid and controlled gesture, yet as he went on the lines began to lose in consistency. The ink smudges grew more frequent. All those small mistakes were unlike of a lady as well taught as Mito. Then, she spoke of Inari.

The Lord leaned over his desk, his attention thoroughly captured.

_“I know how much my sister meant to you and, my dear friend, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all the joy you brought her, and the strength your words gave her during the toughest times.”_

… Meant?

_“After two months of a most brave fight against her illness, Inari’s struggle came to an end. She passed away in her sleep last night.”_

Madara’s body froze down to the very breath in his lungs.

_“She passed away...”_

The letter slipped from his fingers, landing without a sound in front of him as his eyes remained riveted in place.

Inari is… gone?

“Madara…” Hashirama’s voice broke further with every tear. “I am so, so sorry.” His hand went to rest on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

A knock captured his attention and the door opened wide to reveal the man from earlier, playing nervously with his fingers. “Lord Madara, the council orders you to report to them immediately regarding the pacifying of the-” Out of nowhere Madara sprung on his feet, the pattern of his Sharingan swirling in his eyes. “GET OUT!” He roared at the young servant, who fled the room as if to save his precious life.

The Uchiha remained like this for a few seconds, his hands closed into fistfuls of burning chakra and the blood in his veins coursing at the speed of imminent slaughter. A heavy silence fell around him and soon spread to the entire manor, leaving his ears to only perceive the pulsations of his broken heart. One by one his limb went numb, and if it was not for Hashirama catching him on time, he would have fallen knees first to the ground. With infinite precaution, the Hokage brought Madara back onto his chair, allowing him to recover. 

Facing the letter his gaze relentlessly fell from word to word, until the hope for a mistake made way for the bitter truth to finally sip into him. He would never get to see Inari in the flesh, now or ever again. Madara brought a hand to his forehead as a wave of pounding heat spread into his brain. Nausea soon followed, most foul and burning despite an empty stomach. Then came the cold shivers, crawling in waves on his skin. His ears captured Hashirama calling his name, his muscles twitched when his friend held him in a tight embrace, his lips managed a faint smile at the comforting speech, but his heart remained hollow. The fire in his soul, the very strength of an Uchiha, had choked under the nothingness that now engulfed him completely.

Grieving and mourning were supposed to be something dignified and stoic in every noble clan and especially for the ruthless Uchiha, but this was too much to bear. Out of words and out of will, Madara cried.


	2. Withered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to you dear reader for the wait! Now for info regarding future updates you can visit my profile where I'll try to keep track of the chapter progress. Enjoy chapter 2!

Mito’s chest heaved silent breaths, her hand holding her head up and her gaze lost in the vast of Spring. Behind that window, the Uzumaki compound looked like a thriving hive with its people coming and going in the wait for today’s big event. Her eyes darted up. A few more hours and the sun would kiss the horizon, marking the end of another day. A few more hours and she’d kiss her maiden life goodbye and leave the land of Whirlpools to be with her future husband in Konoha.

A warm glow enveloped her chest at the thought of Hashirama. He should still be at this office at that hour, sighing at the pile of documents he still has to go through, running his fingers through his silky soft hair as he mumbles to himself how he’s going to tackle the task before the night. Being Hokage was a tough job. Even more so when the Hokage in question had no skills whatsoever at administration and time management. Fortunately he could count on his brother, even if it meant being scolded several times a day. Poor Hashirama. A quiet laugh broke her silent apathy for a second.

Her room had been empty for an hour now. With impeccable diligence, Satsu had taken care of their belongings: Her most precious kimonos had been folded into their respective boxes while the rest of her clothes had gone into wooden chests. Each piece of her jewelry had been packed individually with great care, as well as her personal objects such as her ivory flute and collection of sculpted animals. At the same time, the maids had removed the linens and curtains from her bed, together with the carpets and tapestries ornamenting the walls. Her nest and refuge was now bare, but not to her dismay. This room was no longer the room that had welcomed happy moments from the past, making it a bit easier for her to move on. 

She brought a hand to her grumbling stomach. “Satsu, did you already pack our dinner?”

“I did, my Lady. We’ll have stir-fried vegetables, steamed pork buns, onigiri and a favorite of yours: custard-filled dorayaki!”

Her mouth watered with every word, with the last one awakening an even bigger roar within her belly. The servant’s head turned to the source of the noise. “Oh heavens, Lady Mito you’re starving!” She said dropping her cleaning supplies.

“I’m fine.”

Satsu began pacing back and forth, her hands knitted together. “Oh this is awful! The kitchen… Yes! I’m sure the kitchen has something for you to eat right away and-” Her voice trailed higher with each footsteps.

“Satsu!” Mito called. “Everything is fine. I’ll eat a little something when we’re on the road to the harbor.”

The girl looked at her mistress with eyes full of concern. “Are you sure? There’s still enough time for me to go and get you a snack.”

“No need for that.” Mito smiled at her maid, a smile reciprocated by Satsu when she finally allowed herself to breathe out. Stirring away from the window the Uzumaki slowly rose on her feet and smoothed the pastel panels of her kimono. “Take me to the koï pond instead. I’m suffocating in this room.”

“Right away, my Lady.” Satsu replied joyfully, grabbing Mito’s arm as she started walking. “Fresh air will do you good. I’ll also bring you some pellets.”

“Pellets? What for?”

“To feed the koï, of course! I know you love to watch them bounce out of the water. Surely it’ll alleviate your nervousness.” Satsu didn't really wait for an answer to start guiding her mistress towards the courtyard.   
If only her heart was plagued with just nervousness. What weighed on her shoulders at this moment couldn’t be suppressed by infusions or medicine, even less by a trip to the other side of the compound. The pain of leaving Inari behind had settled within her months ago and now that the time of parting ways was at hand, she knew the feeling would linger no matter what. It was the kind of hurt only time could soothe but never truly heal.

When Satsu slid the door to the gardens open a cool breeze blew in the corridor, one that Mito welcomed with closed eyes and a deep sigh. Right before they exited, the Uzumaki kicked her sandals away and removed her socks, then dug her naked feet into the fresh grass. She paused to inhale the earthy scents surrounding her. The dirt had been turned for news patches of flowers, and the ones already at the dusk of their lives shared their final sweet notes with each step Mito took. Another cycle, another sight to soon behold.

Satsu on the other hand had opted for the main path, jumping one foot after the other on each stone while still keeping close to her mistress. Mito couldn’t repress a discreet laugh. The playful girl had reached adulthood yet still had the carelessness and endless energy of a child. Even the binds of servitude didn't seem to shackle her youthful spirit. Little by little Mito picked up the pace of Satsu's jumps until she too was hoping, graceful and light, and most important, hidden from sight.

Since her clothes were much looser around the legs, Satsu quickened her steps and soon enough distanced Mito by a few meters. Not being one for competition, the Uzumaki kept her own peaceful rhythm. When reunited with her maid, a breathless Mito gazed upon her favorite part of the gardens: the willow corner where the koï pond was. That, and two ladies sitting by it.

"My Lady, look!" Satsu tugged on her mistress's sleeve. "Oohoo! Hitara!" She shouted, waving her hand in the air.

Mito watched as the two ladies turned their heads in their direction, surprise etching on her face as she slowly recognized who had double-crossed them. Hitara looked serious as always, with her caramel colored hair gathered up in a long braid, neatly tied yukata and impassive eyes. As for the lady she was accompanying, it seemed time had gifted her with only blessings. Kneeling in the lush green, dressed in a lovely pale purple kimono and fine gold jewelry, Kuwa looked like one of those beauties from legends told by the ancients. Unbothered by the messily tied up long red locks, her face held that fascinating expression, of both deep focus and restlessness, highlighted by the tip of her tongue peeking from between her lips. Her gaze was locked on the fish swimming in the water while her hand made the charcoal stick and all its shades dance onto the paper. A movement she almost regretted seeing being interrupted.

Following Satsu hurrying towards them, the princess's first reaction was to pull down on her kimono to hide her lack of socks and sandals. She took the smallest steps as to not disturb this disguise and soon reached conversational distance with this cousin that only seemed to grow lovelier the closer she got to her. Beside her, Satsu had already assumed her greeting stance. "Your servant greets Lady Kuwa."

Kuwa's personal maid reciprocated, bringing one knee to the ground and bowing her head. "Your servant greets Lady Mito." She spoke, her low-pitched voice contrasting with Satsu's gleeful tone.

The Uzumaki was about to answer with a polite nod when Kuwa also dropped a knee, almost tripping in her haste. "Your cousin greets Lady Mito. Congratulations on your betrothal."

Mito's eyes grew wide at the unexpected display and rushed to help Kuwa up. "Please. Please, there's no need for such formality, really." She stammered, relieved that nobody else saw that, but embarassed nonetheless.

Her hands came to rest on top of hers as Mito studied her cousin. It had been so long. Twelve or so years, if her memory served her well. She was still a child when overnight Kuwa stopped joining her for their daily lessons and leisure activities, only to learn later through her mother that Kuwa had been sent to live in the summer palace permanently, along with other clansmen. Still to this day, she had no idea as to why this divide in the clan happened. But to see her so radiant, Mito knew that she had been treated well. The girl from the old days had blossomed beautifully, and judging by how tightly her fingers intertwined with hers, Kuwa was as emotional as she was.

"I should congratulate you too." Mito said, blinking away a few tears. "This marriage is a chance at a wonderful future and I'm glad you're the one it's been bestowed upon." The addition stirred the heartache, yet Mito never let anything show. 

"It's... It's an honor to have been chosen to seal such an important alliance." She declared as she regained a little composure. "I admit I'm a bit scared. I mean, I've got to live up to both clans' expectations...".

"I know the feeling."

"But at the same time..." A faint blush spread across her cheeks. "The thought of having a man to call my husband is... rather pleasant."

Mito giggled at her choice of words and even more so when her gaze found the one of Hitara, being squished into Satsu's tight embrace. "I'm happy to see you're doing well, Hitara." She said in an attempt to free the servant from her prison of good intention.

The servant gently wiggled away from the loosening arms around her. "I thank you for your concern, my Lady. I'm doing well."

"I didn't know you had been reassigned! I'm so happy for you!" Satsu squealed hopping up and down. "Are you coming to Konoha too?"

"Of course I am."

"Awesome! You can't imagine how relieved I am to hear that. I was so afraid I would end up all alone in Konoha and that I-" Mito placed a hand on Satsu's shoulder and gently brought her back to reality. "Satsu, you're trailing off."

The girl looked at her mistress, then let out a small gasp. "Oh. My apologies, Lady Kuwa. I forgot my place."

"It's alright." Kuwa said waving her hand. "You're quite a feisty one. Not that I don't like that, but for now I suggest you keep this amazing energy for our trip. We could definitely use it during those long hours."

"Yes, my Lady." 

Mito turned to Kuwa and pointed at the large notebook she was holding. "May I see?"

Her cousin's cheeks reddened some more when she handed it over. "They're not that good, you know. I'm still practicing with moving subjects and I'm not happy with my most recent tries." She said, looking away.

With care for the worn-out binding Mito opened the notebook and was met with the sketch Kuwa had yet to finish. The koïs ondulated on the paper in fluid curvy lines, mimicking that hypnotic dance that tormented minds couldn't resist staring at. It was simple, just a few gestures and yet there was so much life. As she dove deeper into the pages, the princess marveled at the watercolor stills she immediately recognized as the summer palace, with its painted ceramic decorations incrusted into the walls, replicated there with an incredible amount of detail. "You must have surpassed me by now." Kuwa added.

"Me? I've never reached this level of proficiency." Her hand rested on the pages, tracing the contours of the sketches absent-mindedly. "Drawing was the first class I dropped when my grandfather ordered I learn about diplomacy and politics. I never had the patience to get all those shapes right anyway."

Her cousin stared at her. "Lord Ashina must really dote on you to allow you to be taught politics."

"He does, I guess." Her tone had gone bitter by that last word. Without another look for Kuwa's creations she closed the notebook and handed it back to its owner. "Speaking of him, we should head to the meeting hall."

"But my Lady..." Satsu's gentle hands grasped at her arm. "We're not scheduled to leave yet."

"Whether we go now or right before we board the carriage doesn't matter, as long as we go." She replied dryly. "Kuwa, do you mind?"

"No, not at all." Kuwa answered in astonishment before remembering her manners. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later. Please lead the way." 

Mito spinned around and went to retrieve her socks and sandals, no longer minding the potential stares. Behind her, Hitara threw a questionning look at her mistress, a look that Kuwa answered with a command to hurry.

* * *

Mito trembled when her knees radiated with pain. She had counted on the many layers of her kimono to add up to the softness of the cushion, but nothing did the trick in the end. One slight shift of her weight towards her arms and now her back threatened to ache just as bad. She let out a series of controlled breaths, enough to ease some tension. A few more seconds and her very last bow to Ashina Uzumaki and his court of Elders would be over and she could stand up with all her height.

Once the reciting of blessings had come to its end she rose one step at a time and assumed a dignified stance, meeting with those four pairs of eyes, weighing on her without restraint, never drifting away. With a gaze equally devoid of emotion, she stared at this court of old shinobis surrounding her grandfather. All of them withered warriors, long past a prime she never witnessed. Come to think of it, it was probably the last time she saw these faces in her lifetime and, deep inside, she hoped it would be the case.

The sound of scrolls being rolled close accompanied Ashina standing up. "You should reach Konoha tomorrow evening at the latest and will be meeting with the Daimyo of the Land of Fire the following day, as per tradition." He paused as his free hand joined the other on his staff, his face bearing a solemn expression. "The sages of Konoha deemed the ninth of May to be the auspicious date for both your weddings, and like so it shall happen." 

"Yes, my Lord." The ladies acquiesced in unison.

The Elder woman pointed at them with an open hand. "Once married to your illustrious husbands, all eyes will be on you. The path you'll walk on together will be fraught with many challenges. You must remember to make sure that in each and every one of your steps you are worthy of the crests that will soon adorn your backs." 

"Well said." The patriarch nodded in her direction. "Mito, Kuwa, no matter what comes your way, stay true to our values and to our vow of peace. Only then can you truly honor the Uzumaki clan." He concluded his words with a hit of his staff on the floor. "This session is now over."

Mito and Kuwa said their goodbyes to the group of Elders on their way out before offering their arms to the maids, ready to walk out as well. They already had turned their backs on the dais when Ashina called. "Mito, wait!"

The pair stopped and allowed him to catch up to them. "I'll be waiting for you at the gate." Kuwa muttered to Mito before taking her leave. Relunctantly, the princess stayed put. "My Lord?" 

"Please, my child. Things no longer need to be this formal between us."

"I'm only following the rules." She replied with barely enough contenance to hide annoyance. "You wanted to tell me something?"

"Yes." Ashina sighed. "These past months have been hard on the both of us, and especially on you." He took a step forward, his gaze trying to meet with hers. "I admit I haven't been as supportive as I should have been, and now that you're about to leave the country, I realize the distance I put between us was not for the better." He reached out to take her hand, which remained motionless in his grasp. "I do not ask you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that."

Mito stared at the old man in front of her for a moment, tears welling up the more she did. An apology. Not the kind she had hoped for, but an apology nonetheless. That much she could concede. But for it to come right before her departure, _because_ of her departure, she couldn't accept. She withdrew her hand and nodded politely. "Thank you for telling me. I now bid you goodbye." She spoke before hurrying outside with Satsu in tow.

"Mito!" Ashina called, but seeing that she wouldn't change her mind decided to leave her be. Holding onto his staff he climbed the short stairs to the dais and dragged himself back into his chair. He remained there for a while, breathless and alone to reflect on his mistakes. Outside of the building, right as the doors closed behind her Mito stopped dead in her tracks. Her head fell as a wave of emotions came crashing, a twisted mix of despair and shame she had managed to supress until now. Her fingers curled into fists on the silk of her kimono. She had done her part. That was all that should matter. Now she could leave, and gods did she want to.

"My Lady, are you okay?" Satsu asked, gently patting her shoulder.

Mito inhaled as much air as she could before straightening up and muster what could pass for a smile. "Let's go get that dorayaki." She declared. Satsu chose not to debate the subject further and remained silent as she welcomed her mistress's arm and accompanied her to the carriage. With every step separating her from the center of the compound, Mito pulled herself together. The sooner they would leave Uzushio, the better.

* * *

Behind the curtain of the carriage's window, Mito could hear the crowd singing a thousand praises. All the people of Uzushio had gathered to bid their farewell, gathered in tight lines along the main road, and to say the intention didn't touch her heart would have been a lie. The alliance wasn't even sealed yet that the civilians were already thanking her, some even lamented over her departure audibly as the convoy passed them. There was gratitude out there. And love, so much of it. 

The temptation to pull the curtain and wave goodbye to her people was huge, but giving in would probably have her reprimanded by the guard, or worse, further lectured on the proper conduct in public. Her hand remained on her lap, brushing the expensive embroideries with her thumb in an attempt to empty her mind. Out there were those who sought protection from the Uzumaki clan decades ago, and their children who witnessed the end of war, and their children who knew nothing but peace. The peace they had fought for. The very peace she would strengthen in the days to come. If she couldn't show her gratitude, she hoped her silent prayer would grant them all the bliss they deserved.

"Do you know how long the trip will take?" Kuwa asked Mito, who took her attention away from the outside.

"If everything goes well, less than a day. We'll reach the harbor before dusk, and there we'll board the boat that will take us to the Land of Fire."

"It'll be the first time we sleep on a boat! I heard the cabins are rather small, but really comfortable." Satsu added, barely containing her excitement. Mito offered her a kind smile before continuing. "We should reach the country's shore by morning. A group of elite shinobis led by Toka will welcome us there and then escort us to Konoha, which should take roughly eight hours."

For a second, both confusion and surprise painted Kuwa's features. "You mean... Toka Senju? The kunoichi who fought at the battle of Shunji Pass?"

"You should enjoy her presence while you can. She's not in Konoha most of the time as she's travelling the remote regions of the Land of Fire, tending to reconstruction and relief for those who survived the war."

Mito watched as Kuwa's expression switched from marvel to deep thought. "It's incredible when you think about it. She's fought on the battlefield as one of the most ruthless warriors history has ever known, and now she's tending to those who lost everything and escorting ladies to be wed." Kuwa laughed, hidden behind her sleeve. "Fighting for your clan is commandable, but I think dedicating your time and skills to caring for a greater cause is even more so."

"That is true."

Kuwa relaxed into her seat. "You know, we may not have chosen our future husbands ourselves, but I feel that in the end, this small sacrifice will allow me to hopefully fulfill a greater wish."

"What is it?"

"To make sure history never repeat itself ever again."

Her words brought over a heavy silence that no even the cheerful Satsu dared to break. Forgoing all formalities, Mito slid closer to her cousin and took her hand into hers. "You have suffered greatly. Us and the rest of our clan still bear the scars of warfare, and the ghosts of our fallen brothers and sisters have yet to find their way in the afterlife." She bit her lip, forcing a shaky breath into her lungs "But Kuwa, the brighest of days are ahead of us now. This alliance will settle a precedent, a foundation for a society to thrive in peace, not in the fear of having to send children on the battlefield. There we will thrive too, like we should have years ago."

She welcomed Kuwa's hopeful gaze, as well as that gentle squeeze of her fingers around hers. There would be harships awaiting them in Konoha, in the village itself and within the Senju and Uchiha clans, but compared to the promise of certain freedom, the anguish in Mito's heart kept away. She'd stay true to her vow of course, but be it with or without Ashina's approval, she fully intended on fulfilling it her way.

The cheering in the streets now sounded like a far away humming, ponctuated by the slow rhythm of walking horses. The pause between the four women lasted for a while, until the young servant seized the opportunity to lift up the mood. "I'd like to get married one day." Satsu said, cupping her cheeks with both hands.

Mito's mood didn't take long to brighten up. "That can be arranged. What kind of man would you like to marry?"

"Let's see..." The maid stirred on her seat. "Someone kind and honest, with whom I could share happy moments. That and... not a shinobi."

"Why?" Kuwa asked. "The finest matches in Konoha are probably from shinobi clans. Wouldn't you like a man with some standing?"

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Kuwa." Satsu nodded. "What I meant is that a shinobi must prioritize missions over their families, even if it means putting their lives on the line. I don't think I could bear the loneliness at home and the perpetual dread of my husband getting injured, or worse."

"That's a fair point." Mito conceded. "A civilian then. Well, I'm sure we could find you a nice gentlemen from a family of merchants or craftsmen."

"That sounds great, my Lady." The Uzumaki was met with a wide grin, quickly followed by a much more tense one. "But that is still far in the future. I beg Lady Mito not to worry about this matter, especially with your own special day coming so soon."

All ladies couldn't resist a sweet laugh at the sight of Satsu petrified into another one of her overly apologetic bows. "Alright, Satsu. We'll come back to the subject in due time." Mito said, catching her breath. “What about you, Hitara? You'll be of age soon. Would you like Kuwa and I to find a nice husband for you?”

The servant’s gaze wandered away from the eyes of both mistresses. “My Lady, I’m touched by your concern, but I do not wish to marry.”

“How so?”

“The Uzumaki clan has done so much for me already. Lord Ashina and my Ladies have provided me with things and opportunities I would have never dared to hope for. There’s not a single day in this life where I don’t feel grateful for everything that has been bestowed onto me. I wish to repay this kindness with a life by your side.”

“If this is how you feel, then I won’t go against your wish. Marriage isn’t the only option servants have.” Kuwa replied, patting her shoulder. “I command your loyalty. When the time comes, I’ll reward you accordingly.”

“Well said.” Mito concluded.

Hitara glanced over at Satsu, the ghost of a grin drawing on her face. "I'd be honored to be there for your special day."

"Of course!" Satsu clapped her hands together. "You'd be invited at the sanctuary and I'd reserve one of the best seats for you at the banquet!"

The maid's joy faded as she witnessed the face of her friend drain of its colors. Her back sinking into the soft of the pillow, Hitara placed her hand on her mouth and breathed out, visibly shaken. "Are you alright?" Mito asked.

Hitara shook her head, almost choking as she swallowed. "Satsu...? Would you happen to have ginger with you?"

"Yes, I do!" Satsu lost no time and retrieved a bag from under her seat in a rather disruptive maneuver. "Just take long steady breaths, okay? Oh, heavens..." Her hands rummaged in the bag, stopping at moments to read the tags identifying each ingredient, before pushing handfuls of those to the side in a frustrated sigh. Until she found it. The pouch that would save her friend. Triumphant, she handed it to a pale Hitara. "Chew on a slice until the nausea eases. Since we're in for a long trip you can just keep it all with you."

"Thank you." Hitara answered while bringing a slice of dried ginger to her mouth.

"Are these... medicine?" Kuwa asked, pointing at the bag.

"Yes, my Lady. This is my pharmacy bag. Everywhere I go with my mistress it comes with me."

"So you're some kind of healer?"

Satsu brought her palms to her cheeks in an attempt to conceal her blushing. "Well, my skills are far from those of a real healer but... something like that, I guess. Before I was appointed to serve Lady Mito, I used to serve at the physician's office. I picked up some knowledge from the old nurse working there."

"And ever since Satsu has been at my service, I've never had to see this grandma again." Mito said, throwing a knowing glance at her maid. It had been a few years already since Satsu entered the Uzumaki residence as her personal maid and to her delight, the Satsu of today still had much in common with the teenage girl she met back then. She was a breeze of fresh air in her clan-abiding cage. "I don't know how I would have managed without her by my side."

"My Lady..." Her maid mumbled, the shades of red growing brighter on her face. "I mean, I thank my Lady for her compliment." She replied, beaming with pride.

"Ah Mito." Kuwa sighed as she leaned back into her pillow. "It seems we both stumbled upon excellent maids."

"Indeed so."

"My Ladies, we're about to leave Uzushio!" Satsu said while half her head was still peeking out through the carriage's window.

Hitara, now sporting slightly healthier colors, grabbed her by her obi and pulled her back in place. "Sit down, Satsu. The guards might punish you."

Curious to confirm the fact, Mito pulled off the curtain and took a peek at the outside. As she could see for herself the main gate of Uzushio stood in front of them, with its doors already opening to let the convoy through. The border patrol kneeled in unison when the carriage passed them, and once the last elite shinobis gave the signal, they maneuvered the doors closed.

The Uzumaki princess closed her eyes on this feeling brewing in her stomach. More than sadness, if was relief. By leaving the bounds of Uzushio, she hoped all misfortunes would stay behind and that the few blessings she could claim as her own would follow her into to forest and across the sea.


	3. The Man Behind the Fan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, people! As always, I'll keep you updated about the future chapters on my profile!

A shiver ran along Madara's spine when a cold breeze blew through his hair. Another reminder that trying out the food of this new Ichiraku restaurant while drizzle swept the village was a terrible decision. After pushing strands of hair away from his mouth for the umpteenth time he resumed his searching for the remaining noodles at the bottom of his bowl of ramen. 

They were late. Three to four hours behind schedule according to the message Toka had sent earlier. It seemed they had anticipated the difficulties coming with crossing the whirlpool zone around their country, but not that the weather would drastically deteriorate as they approached the maritime territory of the Land of Fire, forcing them to retreat to a nearby island to safely moor the boat. Thankfully though, they managed to get back on track and reach Toka's squad. 

Their arrival was now imminent, yet Madara almost felt reluctant to leave the quiet of his seat. Judging by the empty streets and lack of light behind windows, the people of Konoha had already gathered at the entrance of the Hokage edifice. Hashirama was already there of course, fueled with euphoria at the thought of finally meeting his beloved. A privilege Madara himself would never have. He grabbed his bowl and drank the last sips of broth, putting an end to his meal but not to the unease growing in his heart. He had to go. He had to be there to welcome the woman who would become his wife. That much he owed to her after months of silence. 

It is said that one cannot betray the dead, yet thinking of a future with another woman than Inari felt like betrayal. What he promised to vow in the past, he would have to vow to Kuwa, and even though he had been told of her lovely looks and personality, she was not Inari. She could never be. 

"Ah, there you are! I've been searching for you everywhere in the village!" A familiar voice declared as a pair of hands grasped his shoulders. "Ramen, huh? You're right. Not a good idea to meet your fiancee on an empty stomach."

Madara's eyes darted up to meet with those of his little brother. Radiant as ever, they also sparkled with the slightest hint of mischief. That and the big wide grin he was sporting promised nothing good. "Are they here?" He asked while digging into his pocket.

"They passed the last line of guards before the main gate. They should be here in twenty minutes or so." Izuna answered in one breath, unable to stay put. "So, how does it feel?"

Madara counted the coins in his palm before handling them to the cook, who thanked him with a bow. "How does what feel?"

"To soon have Kuwa in Konoha!"

The older Uchiha rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair. "I don't know." He replied in half-truth. "I guess I'll have to go and see for myself, don't you think?"

"Clan leaders first." Izuna said gesturing towards the city center in an overly dramatic way. His lips curled into a tender smile, Madara ruffled his brother's hair and led the way, relieved to hear that Izuna had dropped the subject in favor of something much more bearable.

* * *

For what was at least the third time, Hashirama straightened the front pannels of his vest and arranged the locks of hair falling on his torso, all in front of a very stoic Tobirama. As soon as he was done, he assumed his tall and poised leader stance, looking around at the villagers gathered around the road. The skies had darkened with the day ending and under the bright light of the lamps the citizens of Konoha were restless. The Senju leader couldn't blame them. Some had arrived here way before he even did in the hope of securing themselves the best spot to welcome and, most of all, see the Uzumaki princesses be welcomed by their Lords. 

Hashirama rubbed away the pooling tears in his eyes. Building and leading a village, allowing citizens to leave in peace, celebrating weddings and nations coming together, this could have never happened a year ago. The very land they were standing upon was once their battlefield. All it took was a little trust in times of hatred, and a hand outstreched to grasp his own in what would become the first ceasefire. His dream was coming true, little by little and soon, he would get to share it with the most precious woman he had ever known.

The wave of faces turning in the same direction caught his attention. Beyond the crowd a silhouette drew closer, accompanied by the sounds of a high-pitched voice and thuds. It didn't take long for Hashirama to recognize the youngest of the Inuzukas, rushing on dog back to meet them. "They're coming! They're coming! Captain Toka is here!" He shouted, waving his arm in the air. Voices rose in the congregation as like announced, several more silhouettes appeared from below the horizon.

Tobirama's eyes narrowed. While he could sense the strong chakra signatures coming in front of him, another two appeared behind him, ones that had him in a sulk. "It seems Madara does have a little respect for his future wife after all."

"Tobirama, not today." The Hokage said firmly before turning to his best friend. "Ah, Madara, Izuna, you're just on time!" After a polite nod to the younger Uchiha, Hashirama grabbed the older one by the shoulders and pulled him in an welcoming embrace. "Everything's going to be alright, my friend." He said and offered him a confident smile, one that Madara reciprocated as best as his current state allowed.

The convoy slowly pierced through the crowd. A hand resting on the hilt of her sword, Toka didn't seem bothered or moved by the people piling around her to present their formal greetings. Her focus was captured by the greater picture, by all the faces potentially hiding one with much more sinister intentions. When the carriage also got engulfed by the masses, it only took a wave of Toka's hand for the rest of the elite guards to position themselves between the people and the precious guests. She proceeded alone towards Hashirama and his council and kneeled before them. "Toka Senju and the elite shinobi greet our Lord Hokage." She spoke as the multitude of voices died down.

Hashirama went to meet her. "Welcome back to Konoha." His impatience then supplanted his manners. "How are they? Are they alright?" He whispered loud enough to earn an annoyed grunt from Tobirama. The kunoichi gave him a firm pat on the back. "Don't worry, they are fine."

"Thank you, Toka. Your help meant a lot to me." He said almost tearing up. Toka grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Pull yourself together, Hash. The best is yet to come." She said through her grin before joining the rest of her squad to keep an eye on the crowd. Meanwhile, the coachman had gone down from his seat and had maneuvered the carriage to face the main entrance of the building. Once the step in place under the door, he opened it and outstretched an arm to help the first of the ladies out.

Madara watched at this young lady jumped straight from the carriage to the ground, not even acknowledging the man's helping hand. Given the soft contours of her face and the overwhelming excitement she was displaying the girl was in the springtime of her youth, probably not a day over twenty. Judging by the copper hoop sitting atop of her barely tamed black hair she was a servant, a guess confirmed when she reached for the hands of her mistress to help her down. One foot after the other, Mito Uzumaki exited the carriage and stood in all her splendour under the shouting of a crowd gone wild.

The Uchiha threw a glance over at his best friend. As he expected, Hashirama was paralyzed, _transfixed_ by Mito's mere presence. She didn't make things easy for him either: The kimono she was wearing was the pastel green one he had gifted her for New Year's, the very color he had dreamt of seeing paired with her deep red hair, that and the jade floral pin currently holding it together in a round bun. Hashirama's jaw dropped when she turned to him, and the smile that appeared on her face at this instant threw the final blow to his composure. The Hokage fell backwards, face red to the sound of Tobirama's reproaches and the discreet laughter of his fiancee.

This next lady accepted the man's offered arm and got down the carriage with a visible sigh of relief. Unlike the other servant, this one appeared older and more reserved, focusing her attention on polishing her looks instead of on the myriad of eyes now set on her. Her pale face and drawn features told him she had been the one who endured the most during the trip. Still she kept a certain presence in how she held herself, and even more so when she offered her help to the only person left.

Upon getting out she looked all around her as if everything in Konoha was a thing of wonder. The people greeting her, the shinobis, the houses, even the young night sky they all shared, it all seemed to capture her attention equally in fascination. Soon enough her gaze found his, and which each step she took towards him it refused to drift away. Facing their promised ones both ladies bowed deeply while the two servants brought a knee to the ground. The Lords of Senju and Uchiha reciprocated the greeting before Hashirama came forth. "My dear Mito and Kuwa, welcome to our village." He said, still recovering from his unfortunate tumble. "I am so relieved you managed to make it here after all the troubles you have encountered."

Mito hands fidgeted behind her back. "We owe it to the amazing effort and ingenuity of Toka and her team."

"That we do, my Lord!" Satsu chimed in happily before remembering who was listening. "I mean, Captain Toka went to incredible lengths to insure our mistresses' well-being and safety. We are grateful."

Hashirama let out a hearty laugh. "I'm glad to hear that, young handmaiden." He turned to the Uzumaki ladies. "To see you both were in good company puts my heart at ease."

Madara couldn't help a smile at the display. Behind his calm and wise Hokage mask his best friend could barely contain his excitement, and the more Mito stood beside him, the more he seemed to lose all sense of time and space. It took a discreet cough from Tobirama to break him away from his silent trance. 

"But here, let me introduce you to the fine gentlemen accompanying me. My brother, Tobirama..." He gestured at the latter, who nodded politely. "... then at my left is Izuna Uchiha, who teaches at the Academy..." Then without warning, Hashirama hugged Madara a bit to hard to his taste. "... and there we have the one Madara Uchiha, my advisor and brother in arms, and the one without which this village would have never seen the light of day."

The advisor in question received a small bow from Kuwa as she spoke. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Madara."

Her voice was deeper than what he had imagined, with a certain softness in the way she said his name. As her pair of berry blue eyes studied him waiting for an answer, Madara's thoughts danced in all directions. Kuwa was no longer just the portrait painted on parchment or the name the Elders praised. She was there in the flesh, bringing with her all the hopes the Uchiha clan had wished for. "The pleasure is all mine." He said not without an effort to silence the overwhelming feeling taking hold in his chest. As he turned towards Mito she offered him a polite nod, and in their mutual understanding and sorrow, this was enough.

The Hokage cleared out his throat. "You must be terribly exhausted after such a long trip. Would you like to retire already for the night?"

"That would be wise." Mito answered. "Especially since we have to leave at dawn tomorrow."

"Alright." He then turned his attention to the crowd. "Citizens of Konoha, I thank you for the warm welcome you gave Lady Mito and Lady Kuwa. May you have a pleasant evening and good night!" Turning back to his fiancee he offered her his arm. "I had the guest quarters arranged for the both of you. Please, allow me to take you there myself."

It took the Uchiha some elbowing from his little brother to imitate the gesture with Kuwa. As she held onto him, the crushing weight of honor and responsability combined anchored him further into this reality where, whether he liked it or not, the time to mourn was over.

* * *

Kuwa pulled on her obi, desperately trying to create some space for her lungs to expand further but to no avail. The brocade was thick, tightly tied into place by the skilled hands of her maid into what she imagined was a beautiful looking bow. A job well done no doubt, but one that had all her internal organs pushed up into this heavy, nauseous weight in her chest. The price to pay to be presentable and dignified. After pondering the fact for a second or so, she searched for a more comfortable position. 

As she contorted into her little one-passenger carriage she caught a glimpse of Madara's back, peeking from behind the curtain. For the occasion he had tamed his wild mane into a low ponytail and had traded his Uchiha blue tunic for something more traditional, draped on the front and held in place with a simple sash. He walked at a slow steady pace, his gaze fixated on the horizon. The same depthless, blank gaze he wore since he walked her into her assigned quarters last night.

She hissed at the weight of her hair buns shifting to the side as she leaned towards the window. Discreetly, she pushed the curtain away and observed what was happening beyond the sight of her fiance. They were surrounded by shinobis, all wearing their armors and armed with a wide set of weapons. In front of her, half-hidden behind the corner of her carriage, Mito's proceeded at the same pace, closely watched by Hashirama and a humming Satsu. Kuwa searched for her own maid and found her walking at a distance behind Madara, her gaze lost in the green of trees.

"Is everything alright?" She jumped at the sound of his voice. When she turned to him, his eyes had already drifted away from her. "Oh. I'm fine, thank you for your concern." She said, the ghost of a smile grazing at her lips. At last, a few words from him. Some that sounded genuine, unlike his earlier greetings. A joy short-lived still, as he instantly returned into his distant self.

"Have you ever met the daimyo?" Kuwa asked, determined not to let this conversation die down.

"Once."

She pursed her lips. "So... how is he like? I've heard he has a thing for gold."

"He does."

"I see..." She paused for a few seconds, trying to gauge his reactions, or his lack thereof. "I hope he won't make things hard for you."

"Don't worry about that. Just remember the rules."

Her grasp on the edge of the window tightened. No matter how much she tried, Madara remained arcane to her attempts at getting to know each other. She sat back on her cushioned seat and heaved a frustrated sigh. This was going to be tougher than she thought.

A few minutes passed by before her carriage brutally stopped, putting an end to the scenarios playing in her mind. She instead turned her attention towards the shouting of men all around, followed by the sound of brief and heavy footsteps. Finally, the curtain in front of her got pulled aside by her maid, who offered her a hand. A hand she refused with a swift gesture of hers.

Kuwa closed her eyes the moment she stepped out. Straight in front of her the palace stood in all its glory, though a bit smaller than what she had anticipated. The walls of the three square-shaped sections were build high, painted snow-white and bathed in the morning rays of the sun, so much so they were painful to look at. On top of the structure teal glazed tiles curled into the typical roof shapes, with each high point decorated with what appeared to be golden spheres. The entrance was guarded by several heavily armed men, themselves toppled by giant statues, each representing a creature from the legends of the Land of Fire. She had just met with the dragon's amber eyes when Hitara tugged on her sleeve. "My Lady, this way please." She said, carrying with her a small tin box.

The Uzumaki realized everyone was waiting after her. In a measured hurry she joined her future husband and held on to his arm. Without a glance to one another, they started climbing the stairs leading to the gate.

* * *

To say Kuwa was impressed was an understatement. She was awestruck at the magnificence displayed before her eyes. Contrary to the dull and simply decorated corridor they walked just minutes earlier, the throne room was a true spectacle of opulence and luxury. Intricate carved wooden columns held a high ceiling painted with colorful depictions of flowers and trees, separated from each other by thinner wooden beams. They were painted on a golden background, the same kind that could be found on all four walls of the room. Unlike the ceiling, the walls told stories. Ones of gods and goddesses meddling with humans, of concubines and children gathering in exquisite gardens as well as one of war, the one that served as a background to the throne itself. Even the mat pannels they walked on were different. While those back in the Uzushio palace where plainly woven, those pushed extravagance further by having intricate designs woven in, in a pattern mimicking the one decorating the dais upon which the throne stood. 

As the group waited to the sound of the court's small talk, Kuwa threw a glance at Mito. Even though her hands were hidden in her sleeves they were visibly trembling, as much as the rest of her under the heavy layers of silk. She threw a discreet smile at her cousin before going back to biting her already crimsoned lip. As her own gaze came back to rest on the floor, an old man walked towards them from the side door, a metallic staff in hand.

One hit of the staff to the ground, and all chatter ceased.

Then a second hit. And a third, whose reverb died out in a now perfect silence.

"Presenting his highness, Lord Ishihara, daimyo of the Land of Fire, and her ladyship, Noble Consort Nura." The advisor pronounced loud and solemn.

Kuwa went on with her usual way of greeting but got stopped dead in her track by a hand on her back. "A great bow, my Lady!" Hitara whispered as she herself dropped to her knees. The Uzumaki followed suit and kneeled, bending her back until her forehead just met the ground.

The two clan leaders also kneeled in what was a rare display of submission. "I, Hashirama of the Senju clan, greets Lord Ishihara." She heard him say in a voice deeper than usual.

"I, Madara of the Uchiha clan, greets Lord Ishihara."

Kuwa threw a furtive glance over at Mito before straightening up and resting her hands gracefully on her lap. To her relief, it seemed nobody else had noticed her little mishap, or that nobody noticed her at all for that matter. She bit her lip as she felt the first bits of discomfort in her muscles, bits that she knew she would have to endure for the sake of both her future husband and decorum itself, ever so silent and immobile, as the rules prescribed.

Laid back on his throne the daimyo opened his arms wide. "Ah, my dear friends. Welcome!" He spoke in a piercing voice, whose bouncing tone was quick to irritate Kuwa's ears. "And welcome to you, daughters of Uzumaki."

Barred from using speech within these walls, the two ladies could only nod at their prestigious host. Hashirama was the first to speak and told the daimyo about the progresses and innovations that had recently seen the light of day in Konoha, yet already at that point Kuwa had stopped paying attention. She was oddly captivated by the two beings sitting in front of her.

The daimyo was nowhere near as handsome as she had been told. He was a tall and lean man, covered in thick, piled-up layers of shiny brocade that seemed to swallow his arms and neck every time he moved. Hidden behind a richly ornamented fan that he constantly agitated, his face was pale and angular, with an aquiline nose and dark brown eyes and that perpetual smirk that grew with each compliment. His hair was combed flat and held tight on the top of his head, where the traditional fan shaped head piece stood proudly, decorated with the symbol of the Land of Fire.

Then, there was his consort. When Kuwa laid eyes on her, the uneasy feeling that had weighted down in her stomach until now tainted with worry. Nura was sitting beside him on a simple wooden chair, the bright yellow of her kimono contrasting with the darker colors of her husband. Embroidered with an opulence of gold threads and precious stones, it enveloped her from her neck to way past her feet in a train drapping on the surface of the dais. Her hands rested crossed upon the fine silk covering her legs and displayed jewels of exquisite craft, up to her very fingernails that she had long and painted, a symbol of her laborless, luxurious lifestyle. That she had seen in the past, unlike what she was wearing on top of her head. Held in place with her black locks, her crown was monumental. Birds of solid gold sat there, their feathers spread like a wide halo framing her pale face, atop of a bed of equally golden flowers, their cores decorated with one single, smooth nacre pearl.

Kuwa discreetly searched for the eyes of the beauty buried under the weight of this ensemble, but was met with only half a face. The top part was covered by a piece of fabric, making the shape of her eyes barely discernible. Only her lips and chin were visible to all, those full red lips that were shut tight into neither a smile nor a frown. 

She was a display of grandeur. A man-made goddess. Everything but a woman.

"Uzumaki Kuwa..." The stern voice of the daimyo called, breaking her trance. "Let me take a look at your face."

Kuwa complied and raised her head high enough for him to see, yet made sure to keep her unworthy eyes riveted to the ground. A knot of dread stirred in her chest, one that she tried to keep quiet with slow breaths as the eyes of the most powerful man in the country studied her for a long, painful minute. She took his satisfied humming as a sign to rest into her original stance.

"You weren't wronged here Madara, she is exquisite. I expected no less from Ashina." The daimyo concluded turning to the Uchiha. "Are you willing to take her as your legal wife?"

Madara's head fell down. "I am."

"Perfect!" Lord Ishihara stood up from his throne, his fan smashing shut against the palm of his hand. "It is decided then. Servants! Bring the veils!"

Behind her Hitara broke from her bow and hurried by her side, that same box she had seen earlier nestled in her hands. With calculated gestures, her maid opened the box to reveal a beautiful silken veil, ornamented with a single bird embroidery piece on true red. Hitara held it unfolded in her hands, just like Satsu did beside her mistress.

The master and his consort rose, with him taking a step forward. Three hits from the advisor's staff and the entire group fell into great bows, ready to receive the holy words of the daimyo. 

"From the ashes of your hate peace was born, and with it shall grow the prosperity of our countries. I, Lord Ishihara of the Land of Fire, bestow upon the Senju, the Uchiha and the Uzumaki my blessing in their sacred union. May you take flight together as soaring phoenixes, and may the gods grant you heavenly bliss and eternal harmony."

As Kuwa rose from her bow, she was met with the red of the veil. Carefully, Hitara placed it on top of her head, enveloping her many hair pins and hiding her face from all view. Through the fabric she saw Hashirama and Madara rising onto their feet. "From now on, the both of you may not see your futures wives until the wedding ceremony." The daimyo spoke returning to his throne. "You should return to Konoha now. Once again, my congratulations."

"Thank you." The two clan leaders replied as they took their leave. At last, with the help of her maid, Kuwa stood up and with difficult steps followed her fiancé outside. She risked a glance behind, drinking in one last time the luxury of the palace, in which the man behind the fan and his golden spouse never once spared a look at each other.

* * *

The thought of spending another two hours in this carriage didn't enchant her, yet Kuwa would take that a hundred times over kneeling. At least in there she could rest her aching legs and be alone with her thoughts and without anyone to offend. With the pressure of this dreadful encounter vanishing, one thought in particular occupied her mind, one that had a different kind of dread ready to settle further into her heart. She had to know, and to know she had to ask.

"Kuwa?" She heard on her left. "How are you doing?"

The Uzumaki discreetly lifted her veil, a gesture that Mito imitated after making sure their fiancés didn't look their way. She held a hand on her heaving chest. "I feel much better now that we're outside."

"You don't say. All those eyes staring at me felt a thousand times heavier than my kimono!"

Kuwa hid a laughter behind joined fingers. "That too. I meant... That was such a strange encounter, don't you think?"

"Strange how?"

She bit her lip in the search for the right words. "Nothing here is how I'd expected it to be. That and the speeches, the manners, the way everything revolved around us, yet I felt invisible. I know meeting with the daimyo was an important step, and that receiving his blessing is an honor, still many things in here left me with more confusion than with any sense of accomplishment."

Mito looked down. Her cousin's answer made sense to her, and appealed to her very first memories as an heir appearing in society. Those years spent away from their clan's main residence seemed to not have prepared Kuwa for this kind of event, let alone for the duties of an ambassador to the Uzumaki name. "Well, in my case it wasn't much different than those meetings I had to go to along with my grandfather. Apart maybe from the rule prohibiting us to speak aloud."

"What kind of rule is that even?" Kuwa asked, a playful hint in her words.

"I sincerely have no idea." Mito said, her painted lips parting into a sweet giggle.

Further down the cobblestone path, the voice they recognized as the leader of the elite squad carried his final orders: they were about to leave. Mito gave her a knowing nod before heading towards her own carriage with Satsu in tow. A long sigh later Kuwa brought her veil down, just in time for Madara not to get a glimpse of her as he came to make sure she was ready.

She watched him pull the curtain to the inside of the carriage, his face once again bearing the blank expression he had displayed earlier. Instead of stepping in, she turned to face him. "Madara?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, or how close to him she was standing, but for once he looked straight at her hidden eyes. "You can."

Her fingers knotted together. "Am I to be like Noble Consort Nura?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Will my future role as your wife be limited to just appearing by your side and adding to the prestige of the Uchiha name?" 

It was hard to tell through the veil, but Madara's expression seemed to betray surprise. Somehow him not expecting this kind of question added to the fire of her impatience. After a couple of seconds, he replied a resolute "No.".

"No?" She repeated with the expectation of more, which he quickly obliged. "I will treat you neither as a prize nor as a token of glory. You have my word on that." With that, he went back to helping her settle in.

There was so much more she wanted, _needed_ to know, but the words of her maid urging her had her save this task for another time. She offered a polite nod to the Uchiha then climbed inside the carriage, settling for a few more hours of lonely but still lighter-hearted reflection.


End file.
